


Scalpel

by orphan_account



Series: Bloody Mess [3]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sniper and Medic continue to be consensually brutal; Medic pisses Sniper off even more. </p><p>Heavy is just confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scalpel

In the shelter of his infirmary, Medic was curled up in a comfortable chair, reading and occasionally sipping from a glass of white wine. He had a notepad on the table beside him, where he was occasionally taking notes, murmuring to himself. It was long after ceasefire and he was enjoying the quiet time that night brought.

Sniper entered the room quietly. He felt safe enough sneaking up on Medic by now. Who else would grab the man around the neck and bite his jaw? 

The book hit the floor and Medic yelped, but the doctor managed not to stab his teammate, settling for a feline expression of displeasure. “What are you doing, Sniper?” he murmured, the biting and restraint relaxing him a little. “You almost made me spill my wine.” He offered the glass to Sniper, his hand a little shaky. 

Sniper downed it with a grin. “Are you asking me to stop?” he suggested, one arm still around the other’s neck.

“Mmm…no…not exactly…” Medic laughed, his voice breathy with arousal. “Just…you should be more careful.” The doctor forced himself to sit still and let Sniper have control.

Tightening the muscles in his arm around Medic’s neck, Sniper smiled at the man’s concession. He took out his knife and started to cut open the German’s shirt, grazing down his chest and leaving a fine, bloody line all the way down.

Medic purred softly, his head slowly sinking back until only Sniper’s arm was supporting his neck. His arms twitched as he felt the knife, and he wrapped his hands almost violently around the chair’s armrests. 

Releasing his hold on Medic’s throat, Sniper cut off the remainder of the doctor’s shirt. He straddled the man’s lap in his chair, biting at his throat, the knife pressed warningly into his navel. 

“Oh, I’m so helpless. What on earth are you going to do with me?” Medic’s voice was tinged with amusement and just a hint of warning as he settled in to be used and controlled. 

Sniper laughed. “Such lies, Medic.” he slid the knife up to the man’s throat and tilted his head back with it. “Now, though….” he smirked, biting down on the cut he’d made down Medic’s chest.

“Nhh…” Medic sighed, tension leaving his face and shoulders as he finally allowed himself to relax, the back of his head resting on the soft leather of the chair. He cried out and bucked beneath the wiry Australian as the man’s teeth scraped over the fresh wound, almost driving the knife at his throat into his skin. 

Heavy had been enjoying a sandvich nearby when he heard the distinctive sound of his doktor crying out in alarm. He stuffed the rest of sandvich into his mouth before leaping to his feet and hurrying to the infirmary, as quietly as such a large man could. He peered in the window and saw Sniper hurting, torturing his doktor! With a roar, he crashed through the glass and grabbed Sniper by the back of the neck, pulling him violently off of Medic. 

Sniper held onto his knife, but couldn’t get it into a position to stab his assailant. He struggled uselessly, yelling at Heavy to put him down, he could explain, just ask Medic… however his accent seemed thicker with alarm and Heavy wasn’t listening.

Medic was startled, of course, when something massive hurtled through the window and tore Sniper off of him. Startled and rather frustrated at being interrupted. He sat bolt upright and grabbed his scalpel, prepared to defend himself. “Oh, it’s you, Heavy,” he said quietly, relaxing again. “He wasn’t hurting me, it’s alright.” He idly toyed with the scalpel, knowing that Heavy was in no frame of mind to listen right now, even if Medic had cared to speak up on Sniper’s behalf. 

“You…don’t…hurt…my…doktor!” Heavy bellowed, slamming Sniper’s head against the wall with each word, his heavy brow furrowed into a nearly inhuman expression. 

Sniper’s vision was now a series of black and white explosions. “Maybe a …little… louder…” he hissed to the doctor before he blacked out completely. A few more moments and the back of his head caved in.

Heavy stood triumphant, holding the bloody, limp body out proudly to show his doktor. He was breathing a bit heavily and looking very pleased with himself. “Saved you,” he panted.

“Yes, I suppose you did, mein Heavy,” Medic purred. “But now who is going to get me off?” He glanced around as though looking for imaginary sexual partners. “He won’t be back for a few minutes, at least.”

Heavy literally tilted his head with confusion. “Get off?”

Medic’s hand lifted languidly from the armrest and trailed down his chest, following the thin trickle of blood, until he reached the top of his trousers and continued down, showing the bulge. “We were, ah, just playing. Like I tried to get you to do.” Medic sighed with despair. “Well, you may as well fuck me. He won’t be back in time.” The sight of Heavy smashing the life out of Sniper had done anything but kill the mood for Medic. Quite the opposite. 

Heavy growled. “He plays with my doktor?” Sniper’s body had already disappeared to be reformed in a few minutes, but Heavy felt the urge to kick it. He stripped off his pants, obeying his doktor even if he was angry. Medic liked him angry and Heavy would be careful not to use too much force.

“Yes, mein Heavy. It’s alright,” Medic murmured soothingly, his smile widening as he watched Heavy undress with angry, jerky movements. “I still like what we do. You know that.” He rolled over on the chair and gripped the back, offering Heavy his firm, muscular buttocks. 

Heavy simply tore the pants off Medic’s ass, the fabric protesting with a loud ripping sound. He grabbed his doktor’s hips in one giant hand, using his other to jerk his cock to attention. Soon it jutted out from his massive body. He fumbled open a condom (specifically Heavy-sized ones were stashed about Medic’s room and Heavy could usually find some within reach) and slid his head into Medic without any of his usual hesitation and stretching.

“Oh, Heavy!” Medic groaned, delighted. “So rough…” He was very pleased at how well-trained he had Heavy, especially about condoms. He had glanced over his shoulder to watch that enormous member coming for him, but he soon had his forehead pressed to the back of the chair again as he was violently entered. 

Heavy could hardly hear Medic. The blood was pumping in his ears from the violent kill and he could feel himself losing control. He slid in to Medic all the way to the base of his cock, his giant hips slamming into his doktor’s ass. He wasn’t aware of it, but he was laughing, the crazed laugh he always got when the doktor’s medigun made him invincible.

Medic laughed in response, the same hesitant laugh that Heavy usually used when Medic was laughing and the Russian didn’t understand. Both of Medic’s slender hands had moved up and were clutching the back of the chair for dear life as he was pounded into the leather with each stroke of Heavy’s thick cock. “Oh, mein Gott, so, mein Heavy, so!” Medic tended to speak more German around Heavy than any of the others. “Es tut mir so gut Weh!”

Heavy’s thrusts sped up and he grabbed the German’s shoulder with one hand, fucking Medic as hard as he could. His fingers curled tightly and Medic heard the bone in his upper arm snap as his berserker took him.

Screaming in pain and arousal, Medic hammered his hips back against Heavy’s thrusts as much as possible, moaning and laughing and gibbering. Now he knew how to make Heavy hurt him, at least. “Ja, mehr, mein Heavy!” Medic screamed, even though the edges of his vision were going dark and he was light-headed. 

Heavy came loudly, screaming in Russian, something between a battle cry and a profession of love. His hand tightened on Medic’s broken arm, the other one crushing his hip as he filled the condom. Panting, he collapsed on the floor, carefully taking the condom out with his cock.

With a wild, if quieter, echo of Heavy’s cry, Medic came as well, spattering the perfect leather of his chair. He slowly sank down until he was kneeling on the chair with his head tucked almost to his chest, breathing heavily. He moved his shoulder experimentally and winced. “Definitely broken…” he murmured. As he started to turn around, he realized that his hip was also damaged. “Gut gemacht mein Heavy…” he murmured, swaying a little from side to side. “Medigun bitte.” 

Heavy nodded, flushed with shame. He scrambled up and collected the doktor’s medigun, checking the settings and firing it at the doktor.

“Mmm, danke mein Heavy.” Medic sighed with relief as he felt his bones and muscles rearranging and mending. As much as he enjoyed the pain, he still wanted to be able to function normally. Especially once Sniper came back—if he came back. Once he was fully healed, he hopped lightly off the chair and snuggled against Heavy’s side. “It’s alright. It’s what I wanted.” He gestured to the splashes of cum on the leather. “Clean that, would you?”

Heavy nodded, still looking ashamed. He gave his doktor a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t look so upset.” Medic was his usual brisk, unflappable self again. “I’ll see you later, yes?” He quickly dressed, then strode toward the door without a backward glance.

“Da, mon vrach.” The big man went to find a cloth to clean the chair up, disposing of the condom. Afterwards, he’d work on the bloodstain from Sniper.

Medic wandered the base looking for Sniper. Yes, he was almost certain that the Australian was just sulking in his tower, but…when Sniper wasn’t to be found in his room or the mess hall, Medic strode toward the Sniper’s domain and clambered up the ladder as noisily as possible. 

“Headshot.” he heard from above, looking up to see Sniper aiming his rifle at his head.

“Yes, yes, I know. Headshot.” Medic chuckled. “Imagine what Heavy will do to you if you shoot me.”

“It’d be worth it to see you fall from here,” he growled, but sucked the rifle back in and disappeared from Medic’s view. “You could have tried a bit harder to get him off me.”

Medic glanced down the ladder, taking in the long fall. “Mmm, yes, I suppose it would. You would have to film it, however.” He pulled himself up into the Sniper’s roost. “It’s quite comfortable up here. I can see why you spend so much time in this place.”

Sniper grimaced. “I prefer it without company. Especially right now. Did Heavy fuck you?” he said, suddenly realizing that Medic looked terribly relaxed.

“Yes, of course. You left at a most inconvenient time. But I will forgive you, seeing as it was perhaps not your choice.” Medic smiled wickedly. “And as to your complaint,” he waved a hand dismissively, “he would not have heard me at that time, no matter what I said.”

“Have you told him about us now? In a way that he’ll actually understand?” Sniper snarled, taking apart his scope to clean it, something he did when he was feeling uncomfortable. Even just having someone in his space was uncomfortable.

“Yes. Once he had calmed down, I explained that we were only playing.” Medic kept smiling, enjoying Sniper’s obvious discomfort. 

“So he’ll leave us be?” Sniper played with the scope and not meeting Medic’s eyes.

“He’ll leave us be.” Medic settled himself on Sniper’s little cot, adjusting the Australian’s things until he was comfortable, perfectly aware of the effect it had on Sniper. “You’re not going to leave me be over this unfortunate misunderstanding, are you?” He wiped some dust off one gleaming boot with the corner of Sniper’s blanket.

“No, we’ll still fuck. Now get out.” Sniper said plainly.

“Good. …wait, what?” Medic feigned surprise. “Why would you want me to leave? I’m just getting comfortable. I’ve never been up here before.”

“Exactly, and you’re not supposed to be up here. Get down before I push you down.” Sniper’s fingers played over his rifle. It wouldn’t be the first time his bunk had been splattered with brains.

“Is there some rule stating I’m not allowed to be up here?” Medic asked softly. Glancing at Sniper, he saw that he had pushed the Australian as far as he would go. “Alright, I’m going.” He casually, with almost perverse slowness, got off of the bunk and dropped onto the ladder. “Until next time, then,” he smiled.

“Yeah.” He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he heard Medic get off the ladder at the bottom. Scope clean, he affixed it to his gun and took up a familiar and comforting watch.

**Author's Note:**

> Transferred from Y!Gallery, written by my wife and I.


End file.
